Strategic Excerpts from the Journal of
by Oceans in Hand
Summary: Michael the Alchemist, of Bowerstone of Albion. It turns out that confused young man who poked his head into my shop last week  and didn't buy anything  was the do-gooder people have been talking about, Robin. No, Pigeon. Male!PC/Male!NPC.


**Strategic Excerpts from the Journal of Michael the Alchemist, of Bowerstone of Albion**

It turns out that confused young man who poked his head into my shop last week (and didn't buy anything) was the do-gooder people have been talking about, Robin. No, Pigeon. That's not it either; some kind of bird. Poor thing looked like he didn't know his own mind.

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Alex Tannenbottom is getting married again, supposedly. Mattie worries because apparently it was a spur of the moment thing. She's telling everyone she's mad in love with some adventurer and he's given her a ring. Well, I won't go making conclusions because Alex is a good person at heart, once you get past the tangly emotional bits of her. She always _means_ well…doesn't always go so nicely, but that's life for you. I hope the bloke knows how naggy she can be when the fancy strikes her, otherwise he's in for one.

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The wedding party looked surprised, in a word. It shouldn't have been as amusing as it was, but Mattie and John and I had a time smothering our giggles. Actually, I'm sure I did too-look surprised, that is. It turns out Ms. Tannenbottom's "dearest heart" is Sparrow, the Bird-man bandit killer the regulars at the Cow and Corset love to talk about. Yes, also that awkward, raggedy man who got very lost in my very small shop. I wonder, because he can't be very far from my age, but he looked very different at the wedding from what he did that one morning, however many months ago it was. Still not quite settled in his skin though, if you get what I mean.

Come to think of it, he looked pretty surprised as well, and not necessarily good-surprised. I'm really starting to side with Mattie on this one; there's something uncomfortable about all of this happening so fast.

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Alex is pregnant. Already. The housewives and househusbands, gossiping loons that they all are, now refuse to believe the wedding was quite the spur-of-the-moment affair that it was. There's another group (mainly of Alex's poor admirers and Sparrow-worshippers) who won't hear of it. I myself do not plan to toss in with either camp; the timing is close, yeah, but by my half-hearted summing it could have been the wedding night that the ball got rolling. Plus, their house is right across from mine and _I_ was practically an invited guest in their activities that night, the sounds they made. Makes me reach for a pillow to mash my ears under, just thinking about them.

She's wretched to be around now though, Alex. At first it was just because all she wanted to do was moon about her dearest heart, then it was nonstop talk about her house, their house I guess. Now that he's been gone _adventuring_, like _adventurers_ do, it seems to have begun to sink into her thick head that the Sparrow's not going to stick around to be lovesick with her every day, and she's miserable in the way that Alex gets miserable, which is angry and horrible. No wonder that husband of hers seems to come through even less than before.

I do feel for her, because it can't be pleasant exactly, being pregnant and newly married and left by yourself for weeks at a time (almost two months this go, according to her), but really. She'll only get so much sympathy for me. She. Married. An. ADVENTURER. And we all know what that means. It's _literally_ in the job description. Literally.

And I do get tired of listening to her complain about not being able to have a pint every once in while (Alex does love her pints), though there I'll admit I feel her pain.

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And the happy couple that was never very happy is now no longer a couple. We got wind that the good ole Mr. Tannenbottom was on his way back, and Alex _waited at the bridge_ for the better part of an _entire day_ to tell him she was leaving him and taking Andrew. I have never seen a man fail so totally to look upset. Was clearly the best news he's gotten in a while, pitiful bloke. She'd barely gotten her things out of the house before he'd put it up for rent and left town again, and I don't think he's coming back for a while.

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Saw Sparrow strolling towards Old Town last night. It's probably been more than a year since I last caught a glimpse of him, and, gods all. I don't know what exactly has happened apart from a haircut and some muscle development, but he seems…I didn't even speak to him, so all of this could be utter rubbish, but he seems more like he's hit his stride in life. Hell of an awkward phase he's had up till now, but…I think I can understand why people are throwing around the word Hero again.

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He spends more time in Bowerstone now. I feel like every evening when I pass through by the clock tower I see (or hear) him pounding away behind the blacksmith's anvil. He seems to favor Old Town over the market though. I asked John when he was pissed drunk the other night (to avoid the teasing my seeming interest would inevitably lead to), and he mumbled some half coherent story about how Sparrow was originally from that quarter. There was something about a gangster or a love letter or something or other as well, but he seemed to be talking to his mug during those bits and I like to pretend I don't eavesdrop.

Oh, bother. I think I've developed a bit of a crush. With this new haircut and easy, humbly confident air (and, alright, the muscles too), Sparrow is _really_ my type. If he were all that in addition to being interested in men, I will amend. I resent how useless it is to even daydream, though. I've done my share of reading and have listened to probably too many bards, and am well aware that the Heroes marry princesses or end up old hermits sooner than they run off with short, googly-eyed alchemists.

The whole thing makes me wish, in my more morose moods, that my wonderful old mum hadn't changed my bedtimes stories like she did, to where the Hero falls in love with the prince or the golden hearted pauper instead of the princess.

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…Sparrow flirted with me. At least, I think that's what he was doing. I don't know what else he thinks making a grown man giggle so would accomplish, and I wouldn't want to. I do hope he wasn't having me on.

Gods all. It's as if he spotted a heart hovering over my head that screamed, 'I'm in love with you!' or something. I was leaving the Cow and Corset after having a drink with Mattie and John and was on my way home when we crossed paths. He stopped and looked at me like he hadn't ever seen me properly until then, with this queer expression on his face. Which, well, he actually _hasn't_ had a good look at me before, has he? Not one like that for certain.

I still had my goggles on, then. He probably thinks I'm some nutter alchemy enthusiast. Which I am, but still. Minus the nutter bit at least.

I just-oh dear. I feel about eight types of weak and fluttery just thinking about it. He's so…so _him_. Having all of that attention on you is akin to what I imagine it'd be like if stars swooped down to circle round my head. I could barely speak for a moment there, while I scrambled to collect my wits.

He came into my shop after the night outside of the pub, that next afternoon. The chattiest children are forever following him around town, and as if that wasn't bad enough sometimes the adult ones do too. It was so odd, it took me a bit to figure out what he was doing, coming in with an entourage of short folk trailing after him, dashing back out and across the bridge and back into my shop again. I finally figured it out when he ran into my store room and hid around the corner-he was trying to shake the children! Funniest routine I've seen in days, that, not to mention adorable, watching a big man like him with weapons that probably weigh as much as I do strapped to him, running away from Househusband Jack's little piece of work daughter. It took him a long time-more than one trip across the bridge and back, and I swear, to Old Town once-before he managed to beat them back. And then he came around the counter and…a voice in my head said to me, he did all of that just so he could speak to us in private.

Of course, the rest of me promptly replied with something in the family of, bugger off, not on our life.

But I think that's actually what happened.

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He's been in to see me more since then, and it is _definitely_ flirting that he's…we're…doing. I still can't hardly believe it, but I do understand now Alex's hurry to stake a claim on this man, if not his. He just…Sparrow he…he makes you feel amazing. Like the sun's turned its face on you, and you're worthy of every drop of light it gives. After his visits I feel like nothing could happen that I couldn't handle, like I could mix the potions in the back of the books without blowing something up and, if I did? So what? It's almost dangerous, such self assurance.

I want to snatch him up. Every time I hear he's left Bowerstone, my midsection seizes up and I'm terrified he'll meet some magical person in his travels and fall for them, and these conversations we've begun to have will turn out to be nothing.

.

He propositioned me, once. I told him that I promised my mother I'd wait, which is true. I've never been bothered by that promise before, but now I could almost pull my hair out. I can't decide if it's a good thing or not that he hasn't made moves to change my mind since.

Mother would love him if they met, I know it.


End file.
